Mother Knows Best
by darkrogue1
Summary: Blake and Mortimer. Although, unfortunately, Mortimer takes after his father in some ways, his intelligence comes from his mother, Lady Eileen Hunter of Pitlochry. Between the bubbles of the Sarcophagi of the 6th Continent. Beta-read and edited by Blackpenny


Because Lady Eileen seems to be a woman of great intelligence, tolerant and open-minded. She also seems to know her son very well ... and does say a single word to Francis Blake beside unknown official platitudes at the bottom of page 23. It needed mending.

* * *

Until the car carrying her son away disappears out of sight behind the tree grove, Lady Eileen follows the vehicle with her eyes. For a few more seconds she remains, watching the grove behind which her son will not reappear and she sighs. Unfortunately, she understands her husband's attitude: local politics being what they are, he cannot allow his son to "become infatuated" with an enemy of the crown's daughter, to reuse his own terms. She sighs again and shakes her head; once again, such a waste.

Lady Eileen turns and dismisses the few remaining servants awaiting her orders. Not a cloud on the horizon, the day promises to be beautiful and pleasantly warm; it is time to enjoy the cool morning air outside. Her eyes then wander to her young guest who, motionless, keeps still his eyes fixed on the last turn of the road, and she smiles tenderly.

"Will you come take a few turns in the park with me?" She asks the young man, interrupting his daydream.

Without a word, young Blake bows and holds out his arm to her, his move almost a reflex, indicating his perfect education. How proud had Archibald been that Philip had finally made a friend worthy of the name! She smiles at the folly of men and leads her companion across the lawn, in sight of all but far enough from prying ears, before she starts the conversation.

"I am deeply sorry that you had to part ways so soon and in such circumstances," she says, putting her right hand on her companion's arm.

Francis Blake looks at her with surprise: it is she who has had to part with her son after only a few days, and it should rather be his role to offer this kind of condolence. "I am already very grateful to you for allowing us to meet again. It was an unexpected pleasure."

Lady Eileen smiles again. "Good. Good." A pause. "I'm glad you take it that way." She turns again to resume her walk. "My Philip is optimistic, but impetuous. In your place, he would boil with rage."

After a few steps, she goes on. "Write to him, as soon as possible - today, tonight, tomorrow. You have won a steadfast friend. Philip is very loyal."

Francis protests that of course he intended to write. Lady Eileen stops, faces him and interrupts him, suddenly serious. "I beg you not to hate him."

Blake looks at her with round, stunned eyes. Philip had warned him that his mother's mind was sometimes hard to follow, but this is too much of a non sequitur for him.

"I have no reason to hate your son, ma'am."

In truth, and ungoverned by reason, it is rather the opposite.

"He will make you suffer." She breathes softly, staring at him with piercing eyes. It is clear from her expression that she is referring to the girl who caused Philip's departure. "He will break your heart again many times."

Blake grows pale, then breaks down. His secret is out!

"Shh, shh!" Lady Eileen calms him down, putting her fingers on the panicky young man's mouth. "You have nothing to fear, and certainly not from me."

"But it's true," she goes on after a moment ,when the young man has regained his composure, "that my Philip falls in love very easily. He is such a romantic! Oh, he is also true, but if you want to know, none of his choices so far have been successful. Promise me only not to hate him if his feelings for you never equal to yours for him. "

This time, Blake understands. "I swear I won't." Even if he is still shaken, his voice does not waver. The oath is easy to make: he has no intention of letting himself turn sour. From the first moment he had understood that it was hopeless.

"Thank you," Mortimer's mother breathes. She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them her face is full of tenderness. "It will be difficult to be his friend, but Philip will not let you down. Write to him. Even if you did not know each other last week, he already cares a great deal."

Blake does not understand Lady Eileen's encouraging tone. "Are you telling me to hope?" How could a mother condone such madness?

Lady Eileen smiles wistfully. "I cannot promise you anything, young man, but I know my son." She turns to the direction in which her husband and her child went. "So far, since he was four year old, all his sentimental choices have gone against his father's wishes. All of them, would you believe it? And each one more so than the last! Now it his enemy's daughter; there is very little he can do to make it worse. He could have an affair with an artist twenty years his senior - or a man."

She looks again at Blake who nods to show that he understands, that Lady Eileen is saying that if her son were to love a man, she would prefer it to be him.

"So, come here, my child," she says, taking his arm again, "let me tell you everything I know about him." And, leading Blake to the park, she tells him of her son's childhood stories, the tree from which he fell, the bushes behind which he liked to hide, each little tale clearly showing Blake how much Lady Eileen loves her son.

They have that in common at least, thinks Blake slightly comforted. And no, Lady Eileeen can rest assured, he could never hate Philip Mortimer. Even if his love is never requited, he knows this deep within: he will never be able to deny or forget him. They have sworn eternal friendship and he will keep his word, no matter how much it will make him suffer!


End file.
